Breakfast
by RomulusRemus
Summary: Remus reflects over his favorite daily routine and its interruptions. Mild slash (RemusSirius). Don't like it, don't read it.


Remus had moved in with Sirius directly after graduating Hogwarts. In the beginning, neither of them had any source of income, for both teaching and becoming an Auror required a certain amount of schooling. But Sirius had his uncle's inheritance, so it was he who paid all the bills, not that he minded. Remus, however, did.

So, for the years before he was able to secure any sort of income, Remus did all the housework. He cooked, cleaned, washed the dishes, did the laundry and went out to do the grocery shopping.

Sirius had balked this at first, saying that he had no problem with paying for things, but after a few too many of Remus's steely glares, he resigned himself to a clean house and good food, not that it was too difficult for him to do so.

The two years it took Remus to complete teaching school produced some of the most meager meals either of them had ever seen. They lived in near poverty, but were happy. And that was what was always remembered.

When Remus secured a position in a correspondence teaching program, which was really the only sort of teaching job he could have as a werewolf, their standard of living finally went up and Remus agreed that it was time to share the burden of chores, not that it was too difficult for him to do so.

Negotiations for favorable chores took place on a daily basis, but there was one chore that was Remus's and Remus's alone. It was simply understood that no matter what condition he was in, Remus cooked breakfast.

The full moon's effect on him had greatly lessened since he had left adolescence. Now instead of being unable to move for nearly a whole day after the full moon, Remus was disabled for a few hours and would definitely be up and running by 11 o'clock, the latest breakfast was ever on the table.

Remus had not known how to cook properly until he had started living with Sirius. He had taken to the chore better than Sirius had, and so making breakfast was always an enjoyable affair for him, a welcome routine in their increasingly chaotic world.

There were several slight variations in this routine, such as what would be cooked. Remus could make nearly any breakfast food, and was always open to requests. When he knew they'd have company in the morning, Remus would make sure that the favorite food of the guests was prepared. For Peter it was a Spanish omelet, for Lily it was blueberry muffins and for James it was French toast. As for Sirius...well he would eat anything (though Remus made sure they had strawberry pancakes at least once a week).

The most predictable part of the breakfast routine was the tea. Remus could not have breakfast without tea. It had even come to a point where he had gotten Sirius addicted to it.

"Tea is what holds breakfast together," Remus would say in his teaching voice, whenever Sirius would watch him make breakfast. Often watching included Sirius having his arms lightly around Remus's waist and replying, "You're a bloody nut, Remus," with affection.

Time went on and soon other variations were added to the routine. Such as Sirius's presence at the breakfast table.

It started because of his duties as an Auror, but as he quickly gained rank with James, his hours become more stable and the reason he was away was due to increasingly frequent fights with Remus. In the years to come Remus would reflect on these fights and see that war had taken its toll on them, though at the time he wouldn't have admitted that for anything.

But still Remus persisted in his breakfast routine. The routine, which soothed him and gave him the comfort nothing else could**, has** only been broken two times to this very **day**.

The first time had come on November 1st, 1981. He had already put the kettle on and started the French toast, James's favorite breakfast food. That was a thought that always haunted him, that he made French toast that day.

He had just put the French toast in when Albus Dumbledore's head appeared in his fire. "Oh, hello sir," Remus said kindly.

"You haven't heard," Dumbledore had said, in a flat voice. His eyes were sad as he looked at Remus and told him what had happened to James, Lily, Peter and Sirius. Looking back he could never recall exactly how Dumbledore had broken the news, but he always remembered that upon mentioning Sirius, the kettle had started screaming in the background.

The aftermath of that day had shattered Remus's routine. He had been called in for questioning and once that was done, there was the business of James, Lily and Peter's funeral to attend to. Giving the eulogies that day had nearly broken him, as spending over a decade as a werewolf never had. The night after, he had desperately prayed it was a mistake: that Sirius had never betrayed them, that Sirius wasn't still alive, that Voldemort had discovered Potter's secret because Sirius had died, and Peter had just been in the way because things were more honorable for Sirius that way. Then he felt sick for thinking only of Sirius and sold the apartment the day after.

With a small amount of money he had saved, Remus had been able to buy an out of the way little house with peeling wallpaper and a filthy interior. It had taken Remus the better part of six months to make that place hospitable and even then he could hardly call it home. Not without Sirius.

It hadn't taken too long for Remus to begin his routine again. Now the routine had become his only source of comfort, the constant in his world of graying hair and changing jobs monthly. The world kept spinning, even though Remus was distraught, and his routine continued smoothly until late in the summer of 1993.

Again it was Dumbledore who broke the routine, but this time the disruption came in the form of an owl bearing a letter with the Hogwarts seal. This time the tea was already done and the eggs and bacon were nearly ready when the owl came in.

Remus had opened the letter curiously, wondering what Dumbledore could possibly have to tell him. He scanned the letter once quickly, then again more slowly and again and again until the words seemed to wilt after having being read so much. The letter bore both Remus's greatest dream, and his greatest nightmare. He would be teaching at the prestigious Hogwarts, and Sirius had escaped. When he finally brought the tea to his lips, it was cold.

That letter had brought the longest interruption yet to Remus's routine. For a year he was served breakfast and for that year he was content to give up his favorite comfort, though he had packed his kettle with him, in a vain attempt to make Hogwarts feel like the home it had once been.

In the end, Remus was almost grateful for an excuse to leave the school in June. Not that he hadn't enjoyed teaching where he had once been taught; it was simply that he knew now there were other things to attend to, namely Sirius.

Which brought him back to his little house in the middle of nowhere, the doors of which he now kept unlocked, though his inner "Moody" voice screamed against it. He would lock them again soon, though. Very soon.

When Remus entered the kitchen at 8:57 in the morning on June the 25th, 1994, he counted two interruptions to his long-standing ritual. He had passed the unlocked front door on his way to the kitchen and was pleased to note that it was ajar. He was even more pleased when he looked out his kitchen window to see a hippogriff grazing in his petunias.

It was only a matter of seconds now before that dark shape in the corner of the room came to interrupt him for the third time ever. 'Third time's the charm,' Remus smiled to himself as he began to fill the kettle, pointedly ignoring the man in the shadows.

The creaking floorboards were his only warning before warm, familiar arms encircled his waist. The arms were thinner sure, but they still belonged to the same man.

Remus spoke allowed in his now well practiced teaching voice. "Tea is what holds breakfast together."

When Sirius spoke his voice was harsh with lack of use, but it still carried vibrant affection. "You're a bloody nut, Remus."

Remus turned around to face Sirius then, smiling, as he had not done in years. Later they would talk about the betrayals. Later they would talk about the heartache. But not now. Now it was time for them.

They kissed passionately, all thoughts and hurt forgotten in one blissful moment. When they pulled away Sirius spoke in between large intakes of breath. "Are you going to finish making breakfast?"

Remus looked behind him at the stove and at the worn kettle resting on top of it. It took him approximately two seconds to make his decision.

He dragged Sirius off in the direction of the bedroom, feeling more alive then he had in years. "Screw breakfast," was all he said.


End file.
